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Monthly Archives: June 2016

As a parent, even a parent such as I am, one sees a lot of nasty stupid things. You’d think by the time your kids are almost grown (almost 17 and 20) that it would stop. And I’m not talking about kids, I’m talking about parents.

Dear Super Mom,

Maybe the reason you change your children’s teachers, schools, churches, sports, coaches, sports clubs, isn’t because everyone is insensitive and not doing their job. Maybe it is you. Maybe YOU aren’t doing your job. So just shut the fuck up and stop bad mouthing everyone. Look at yourself. And look at your kids – they’re mean to other kids, and they lie. Because of that other kids and adults don’t like them. Go figure your kids are just like you. How sweet. OK I’m done. Peace.

Now that I have THAT out of the way…

Clara and I are planning another cross country road trip across deserts, mountains, and plains. Vampires love road trips. It is a time to crank up the music and see America. And who doesn’t like to taste the local flavor, if you know what I mean.

We are driving from near Sacramento, CA to Lincoln, NE, through Denver, CO. I’ll make sure I send photos from the road and my travel log. We’re going to the National Artistic Roller Skating Championships.

Excuse me for a second. Outside of my window is an angry Ghost. Did I mention that it is the middle of the day and over 105 degrees farenheit outside? Did I mention that I live on a hill, so the window is about two stories up.

I’ll be right back.

OK I’m back.

I motioned for the Ghost to come inside. He looked horrible – almost dead. I mean, he is dead, but not that kind of dead. Unless he is in his head-bashed-in with a frying pan look he had when he died he looks pretty good. He was one of those guys with almost a pretty face. You know, the kind with the sweet smile and eyelashes that make any woman green with envy. Yet, he is still extremely masculine. That does not sway my opinion of him, which is that he is usually a complete asshole.

He vanished in and reappeared standing behind me. His already shaggy black hair was almost standing on end. His skin look gray, even for a ghost. He wore his funeral suit without the jacket, and his black tie was loose around his neck, and he’d rolled up the sleeves.

“You look like you’ve been to Hell and back,” I said to him.

“Don’t even joke about that,” he said, then whispered the words Vampire bitch under his breath as if I wouldn’t hear.

I haven’t seen Nigel, The Ghost, for months, then suddenly he shows up in a bad mood, expecting my full attention.

I wait for him to speak, as one does with a Ghost. And I wait. He says nothing. Then I try to go back to writing something meaningful for my blog post about traveling with teens and young adults, but I’ve lost track of every thought in my head.

So I ask. “What is it Nigel?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it the heat?”

“I don’t have a physical body. I don’t feel heat.”

I’m not one for guessing games. In fact I hate guessing games. You know the type I’m talking about. Someone comes in and says, “Guess who I saw?” or “You won’t believe this. Guess who is getting married?” I don’t want to guess. I don’t want to throw out a dozen names and still not know what you want to tell me. Just tell me. So I didn’t even ask Nigel anything, and of course that drives him nuts, because he’d come back at me with a “guess what” fill in the blank.

The calico cat rubbed against Nigel’s leg. Yes, cats can do that, even if you don’t see the Ghost. Cats always see the Ghost.

Nigel gave the cat a smile and stroked her head, then he glared at me and vanished. I’m not even going to speculate on why he stopped by, other than to annoy me, or maybe he just needed to see the cat.

The train of thought is lost forever.

But I know that if you have a cat to pet then everything will be alright. If you have a cat your most troublesome Ghost will fade away with a smile on his face.

Welcome to Hell

Sure we all volunteered with a capitol V but we didn’t know we’d be stuck a billion miles from home with a bunch of assholes.

Our plan was to stop at Planet 2387 before we made communication with our target planet. 2387 is an uninhabited wasteland. There might have been the rudiments of life there at one time but that ship had come and gone.

So we land at what was left of the Emile Hanson Memorial Outpost, otherwise known as Hanson’s Hole. I looked up Hanson’s name before we left home. He’d been the captain of the second Mars mission. You know, the one whose head exploded when he ran into a couple of guys from Europa, but that was a long time ago. That was about three hundred years ago, long before I was born.

On the wall of the main building of Hanson’s Hole the words, “Welcome to Hell” were scrawled in what looked like blood.

Junior Potemkin, the communications officer, if you could call him that, started to hyperventilate. I slapped him in the back and told him to stop it. Captain John Finch our leader, rolled his eyes, and told us start testing for signs of life.

We’d only heard of this place. Nobody was sure even who’d been here in the past, or exactly what their mission was. We were looking at a ghost. And while the rest of the crew stood shaking in their gravity boots I started to explore. I didn’t travel twenty light years away from home to pee my pants over some extraterrestrial graffiti.

I’ll tell you, when I signed up for this gig, last minute of course, I found myself with the lamest group of space travelers ever assembled. Sure they were all smart and looked good on paper. Everyone had advanced degrees and shit loads of experience. But the experience was in the lab and on paper. Nobody had field experience or people experience aside from the Captain or me.

Potemkin was an expert in written communications but couldn’t carry on a conversation if his life depended on it. Our chief engineer Thomas K. Morgan was one of those insidious geeks who corrected everyone on every single word they said. Morgan’s favorite line in any conversation was, “actually” fill in the blank with his expert opinion, which was usually bullshit or worthless trivia. After we were out of the solar system Captain Finch told Morgan that he’d throw him out into space without a suit if he didn’t cut it out.

The rest of the group included a guy called Boof who thought he was channeling Flash Gordon, an antisocial hermit of a physicist who asked to be called X, and a pair of identical twins who I called Satan’s Daughters. The twins, Vera and Meera, were sneaky little shits who talked at the same time and were never seen away from each other. They were brought on as some sort of geology experts, you know, dirt and rocks as they liked to remind everyone as they cackled like witches as if that was funny. They were dirt and rocks as far as I was concerned. The rest of the crew was bland, mean spirited, and aside from the Captain had no imagination what so ever.

So I’m looking at the writing on the wall and wondering what in the world, and who in the world had written it. I felt someone rub my shoulder and looked over to see Boof standing there expecting me to be Dale Arden to his Flash Gordon. Give me a break. He looks good but no. Absolutely no.

“Boof,” I said looking up at the leafy blue green canopy of plants (I assume they were maybe once plants) around the building. “Let’s take a look inside.”

He gave me a great big blinding white smile and knocked the door open with his foot. Boof wasn’t carrying a ray gun, but it wasn’t because we’re a couple of scientists with seven degrees between the two of us. Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t like scientists or people with degrees can’t be badass. We just didn’t have any weapons with us.

The interior was dark. Not like no lights, because there was a skylight, but because obviously the interior decorator of this forgotten outpost either had a stack of 1980’s Architectural Digest Magazines handy for inspiration, or he was into all things Gothic.

“Looks like vampires live here,” said Boof.

I gave an uncomfortable laugh and tried to be serious, that is until I saw the red stiletto heeled shoe next to the black velvet wing back chair. Then we heard a scratchy recording start to play. I couldn’t figure out where the music was coming from.

You’re just a little bit of sunshine when it’s raining,

You’re just a little bit of gladness when I’m blue,

You’re just a little bit of love light that keeps shining,

And when it’s cloudy, you’re a silver lining.

“Radio Franks. You’re Just A Little Bit of Everything I Love,” said Boof.

I looked straight ahead at a slowly moving shadow. “How do you know that Boof?”

“I like early 20th Century music,” he answered, his eyes also on the shadow.

~ to be continued

Note: This was all I could come up with in the 45 minutes I had today. If you really want to know what happened let me know.

Sometimes I like the idea of being a Vampire better than actually being a Vampire.

The media portrays us as either cold stone killers, or some sort of romantic society of immortals in black glam clothing. It just isn’t like that.

I can’t tell you how many times Vampires I know have expressed the wish for a drive-thru window for blood or even a nice warm neck or wrist. We all know that isn’t going to ever happen.

When we need something fresh we can’t just have something in the pantry. No really, we don’t keep live people around for food. No Vampire in his or her right mind has done that for centuries. Not only is it illegal, but it is kind of icky too.

My eldest child, now at home for the summer, has a sensitivity to the sun, as do most of us. His is extreme. Add to that the fact that he goes to college in a beach town. Sign. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to go pick him up from school.

I mean, the advantages far outweigh the disadvantages for most Vampires, but sometimes it would be nice just to feel a little bit warm and a little bit more alive. Then again…you’ll never hear me complaining that I’m bored.

Like this:

Ask Juliette (Ask a Vampire – Advice for Everyone) is a regular feature on Vampiremaman.com

The questions come from vampiremaman.com readers. If you have a questions about parenting, Vampires, relationships, dogs, cats, life in general, or anything, just ask and I will do my best to answer. Send your questions of juliettevampiremom @ gmail.com

Dear Juliette,

I’m a widow with two great kids ages twelve and fourteen. I have a job I like, own my own home, and I also have a wonderful boyfriend. My boyfriend is wealthy, good-looking, and likes my children. My boyfriend said he would marry me and pay for my children’s college education if I agree to send the children to a prestigious boarding school. He said we deserve our alone time. The school he can get them into is full of alumni who have attended Ivy League colleges, and has high scores for everything. The problem is that my children don’t want to leave me. The eldest, my daughter, has threatened to run away and live with my sister in another state. What should I do?

Dump the boyfriend. You can’t put a price on your children. No boyfriend, girlfriend, or potential spouse is worth trading for time with your kids.

When you choose to have and raise a child (and it is ALWAYS a choice) you sign an unwritten contract to love, provide for, guide, and be there for that child for eighteen years.

Sure you can sell yourself like a whore for money or the love of a man but at what price? Is it worth the price of the love and respect of your children? Is it worth a piece of ass? Is it worth an expensive diamond? Is it worth a guy who doesn’t respect your role as a parent? Is losing your children worth your “alone time”?

I never understand why some people insist on getting involved with people who either don’t like their kids, or have kids they don’t like. If you don’t want to be around someone’s children then don’t date them. And DON’T for God’s sake marry them.

Sure I’m being harsh and hard lined but these are children we’re talking about. CHILDREN.

Your children are only children for a short time. Treasure that time. You will never have it again. Once they are grown that is it. I’m not saying that you can’t have your own life and interests, but just don’t do it at the expense of the most precious and valuable thing you will ever have – your relationship with your children.

This is Oscar. He is my cat. He is really cute.

Dear Juliette,

Which do you like better, dogs or cats? What do Vampires like the best.

I’m more of a cat person but I adore them both. I have two cats and a dog. Oh my heart goes flutter when I think of them, even when they are doing bad and annoying things. I love both. I can’t imagine life without them.

As for Vampires…we’re just like regular people in that we each have our own preferences. For the most part Vampires like both dogs and cats. I mean, who wouldn’t? Right?

Dear Juliette,

My boyfriend has hair on the palms of his hands.

Well crap. That isn’t good.

Dear Juliette,

Is it ever too late to follow your dreams?

Absolutely not. Unless you’re following my dreams. But seriously, it is never too late to follow your dreams, get an education, write a book, fall in love, or do anything you think you’ll enjoy or be good at. Don’t take NO for an answer, even if the world tells you NO. Eventually you’ll get a YES, even if it is just from a cranky old opinionated Vampire like me.

A story about a father and son as told to my children and me by my husband.

My Father

“I know your mother was surprised when she arrived in Heaven and found only two of her three deceased children waiting for her.” My father gave me a wink and his familiar smile.

“I’m sure someone filled her in on what happened to me,” I answered.

The old man just smiled. I saw my dad one last time in 1913. He was 89 years old and fragile. He’d been born in 1824, come to California in 1849 with a wife and two small children in tow. I’d been born on the way out in Panama. After they arrived in Sacramento six more children were added to the family.

They’d come out with your parents, your grandparents, who were their closest friends. The men were business partners. Both of the wives were pregnant. My mother with me, and your mother with your brother Maxwell. Max and I grew up together and were best friends. More children came for both families. Business thrived. The families thrived. All was good.

My father looked into my eyes and smiled sadly. “When you became ill it was different. They were different. There all the time. Max never left your side. He was in such grief. His father Jeremy was so serious. Jeremy had been my closest friend for 30 years and I’d never seen him so angry and frustrated or concerned. I should have known they were different. They never aged. They never became ill. Their injuries healed five times faster than others. The two they called the Elders looked as if they were barely adults. But I just thought it was their happiness and luck to stay so young. You don’t look a day over six and twenty and you’re sixty two. People die of old age when they’re your age.”

My heart broke. “Dad, I didn’t choose to go away. I didn’t choose to be like this – one of them. I thought I would go mad I missed you so much.”

Dad smiled trying to avoid anything too emotional. “Your fiancé got married to another man six months after you died. She couldn’t wait to get hitched.”

“So I heard. She has had a joyful life without me.” She had indeed and I was glad for her.

“You’re better off with someone else Teddy. She would have bored you to death. How about Juliette? Is she still around.”

“On and off.” Well we were on and off. I wished it had been more on but you know how it was back then.

My dad gave me a grave look. “Make it on sooner or later or she’ll be gone. Give me your hand. You’re cold.”

“I’m alive, in my own way.”

“I read a story about a machine that could go through time. That is you, only you don’t have a machine, and you can only go forward.”

“You know what I am.” I had to bring up the subject. I had to get it out in the open.

“You’re no Dracula. I’ve read that one too. Completely unlike the Vampires I know. Son, it was clear that my friends were not like me. They never aged. The avoidance of sun and other daylight activities. Their children grew up and took on an air about them. Finally one day I cornered them and asked. I suspected they’d been cursed or blessed or something in between, but then again that could describe most of us.”

He gave my hand a squeeze. “But you have to realize that at first I was in disbelief. I was horrified that my friends survived on the blood of others until I understood the complexities of their biology and culture.”

He continued to hold my hand as we sat for a few moments and watched the sun set over the oaks.

“That is a beautiful sight Teddy. I love those trees. Promise me Teddy that you’ll do good. Make a difference. You’re in good graces with the community of Vampires. I can’t see you as evil because my friends are the best people I’ve ever known. They’d do anything for my family. They kept you out of harms way. Those who changed you were evil and it still breaks my heart but you’re not a man of shadows.”

We saw each other for the following three weeks until one night the old man fell asleep peacefully in his sleep and went to be with my mother.

No matter what befalls a child the love of a parent never wavers or dies. The love of a child for his father will last longer than any lifetime. For all that is good in the world comes from the generations of love that lingers and lives on long after we are all gone.